Things That Go Bump
by PrussianSecretPolice
Summary: Life is full of little horrors. -Rated for eventual gore and attempts at being scarifying. Rating may go up.-
1. Humans Can Lick, Too

_So, this is an idea I had forever ago, and I figured I'd upload something since I haven't in ages . . . I feel so bad . . . _

_Anyway, this is pretty much just me putting Hetalia characters into scary stories and urban legends here and there. I guess I'll just keep going until I run out of stories. I'll probably upload one every week to space it out and make you wait (XD I'm evil!), but I just might forget, so try not to shoot me if I'm late on one. I have to have deadlines for things or I never get them done. _

_Now that we've got that ramble out of the way . . . _

* * *

Humans Can Lick, Too

Matthew Williams hadn't ever really been bothered by staying at home alone. His older brother Francis had to work two jobs to support the two of them, often being forced to leave Matthew alone with the ear of one the neighbors, Arthur Kirkland, out for him. Francis, seemingly for nothing in return, had talked Arthur into listening out for Matthew whenever he was gone, the Briton occasionally coming over to check on the little Canadian. Matthew didn't mind. Arthur was nice, and he had his pet malamute, Kumajiro, to keep him company.

One night, Matthew had been sitting in the living room just before bed with Kumajiro playing with his toy soldiers. He was having a grand time, pretending to lead the Canadian army against that of Soviet Russia's (because he had a very active imagination), and Kumajiro seemed perfectly content with watching his master play to his little heart's content.

A light knock on the apartment door startled Matthew slightly, but the voice that followed soothed him.

"Matthew? It's Arthur."

Matthew grinned. "Password?" he asked, standing and walking over to the door.

"Maple."

The Canadian beamed wider, reaching up on tiptoe to undo the chain lock and deadbolt before pulling the door open. Arthur was standing on the other side in the old shorts and white shirt that served as his pajamas, his hair a bit messier than before and his eyes slightly reddened. Matthew knew that Arthur was tired, just like Francis usually was, from having to work hard to support his own brother, Alfred, and himself, but sometimes he wondered if the Briton ever drank. Sometimes he did smell a bit strange when he came in to check on the Canadian.

"Are you okay, lad?" Arthur asked, sounding exhausted.

Matthew nodded, his odd curl of hair bobbing with the motion.

Arthur smiled. "Good. Make sure you lock the door and windows tight tonight, Matthew. I heard on the news that there's a bad man roaming the neighborhood, and I can't have him coming in and taking you away, can I?"

Matthew grinned, shaking his head. "Nope! I'll lock everything extra tight!"

"Good lad," Arthur said, ruffling Matthew's silken hair. "I'm going to bed now, and I don't want to hear you up much longer, understand? You lock up and get to bed."

"Of course, Artie!" Matthew replied, grinning. "Good night!"

"Good night, lad."

With that, Matthew shut the door behind his warden of sorts, redoing the chain lock and deadbolt before darting into the other rooms of the apartment to lock everything tight. There was one window in the kitchen that wouldn't quite shut all the way, but Matthew didn't think much of it as he led Kumajiro into his bedroom and slipped into bed after turning everything off.

Sometime in the night, Matthew awoke to the sound of dripping. It was strange – he was sure he'd turned the sink off after he'd brushed his teeth. But, there it was – the steady _drip . . . drip . . . drip_ of a leaky sink.

Confused, Matthew let his hand fall over the side of the bed to where Kumajiro was sleeping. He felt around for the dog's fur, but he couldn't seem to locate it. However, when he felt a tongue run over his fingers, he relaxed. Kumajiro was simply hiding under the bed!

Smiling, Matthew tried to ignore the dripping and go back to sleep. His hand continued to dangle from the side of the bed, Kumajiro occasionally licking it as if to say, 'Hey! I'm here! It's okay!' However, the little Canadian couldn't seem to fall back asleep due to that infernal dripping noise.

Frustrated, Matthew clambered sleepily out of the bed, staggering out of his room and into the bathroom. Indigo eyes went wide in terror as he flipped the light on, a scream of horror lodged in the child's throat.

Suspended from the showerhead of the bathtub, Kumajiro's body hung on a thin piece of razor wire from his neck, blood dripping down steadily into his white fur. The dog's body had been torn open, intestines and bowels spread over the bottom of the tub. Poor Kumajiro was mutilated, broken, and, to Matthew's shock, the source of the dripping noise. Blood was plopping rhythmically from the dog's body down into the tub, slowly filling the bottom with the vile red substance.

The thing that made Matthew's blood run cold, however, was the message scrawled in blood on the bathroom mirror.

"_Humans can lick, too."_

_

* * *

_

_Please, please, **please**, let me know if there are any sorts of mistakes. Poor writing is one of my pet peeves, so please let me know if I'm doing it. _

_If you have any requests for this, drop me a review and I'll try to work it in. If not, review anyway! They make my soul happy. =3_


	2. Babysitting

_So, here's number two, starring Sealand, Little!England, and Scotland (I call him Angus, btw). _

_I apologize if Scotland's accent is completely botched. I'm Alfredian, and therefore have very little knowledge of the outside world (other than what Wikipedia and textbooks tell me). If you happen to be Scottish (kudos to you!) or just have a better knowledge of the accent, please feel free to correct me! I'm anal retentive about things lilke that . . ._

* * *

Babysitting

"_. . . very dangerous and should not be taken lightly. We advise all residents of the North London area to lock all doors and windows until this man is apprehended. Again, he is very dangerous and this warning should not be taken lightly as he is armed. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of this man, please phone-"_

"All right, ye two. Whit're ye watchin'?"

Arthur and Peter Kirkland looked up at their oldest brother, Angus, fear evident in their eyes. "There's a madman loose, Angus!" Peter squeaked, clinging to Arthur for dear life.

"And he's running around the neighborhood!" Arthur added, sounding fearful.

Angus rolled his eyes, flipping the channel on the television to something a bit lighter – cartoons. "It'll be fine, laddies," he assured them. "There's aboot a one in a hundred percent chance he'll come here."

"But, what if he does?" Arthur demanded, staring with wide eyes up at his brother.

"Yeah," Peter quipped. "What if he does?"

Angus sighed. "Look, if it bothers ye that much, go on up tae bed."

Not having to be told twice, Arthur and Peter both leapt off of the couch and darted up the stairs to the bedroom they shared. Angus followed, chuckling. Ordinarily, he would have been more than miffed to have been stuck babysitting while his parents and three other brothers went off to a play that they all wanted to see, but now that the two youngest were going to bed early, he didn't mind as much. At least he'd have the telly to himself.

After ensuring that the two boys had brushed their teeth and such, Angus carefully tucked Peter and Arthur into their respective beds, rolling his eyes at how they cowered beneath their blankets.

"Make sure you lock all of the doors and windows!" Peter commanded as Angus turned away from his beside to leave.

"Yes, lock them tight!" Arthur added.

Angus chuckled, pausing in the doorway with one hand on the light switch. "Aye, Ah will. Noo, get tae sleep, laddies. Ah'll be doonstairs if ye need me."

Both boys nodded, and Angus flipped the lights out, shutting the door and going back downstairs to watch whatever late-night sitcom would be coming on.

Later that night, Arthur was awakened by a loud crash from downstairs. Terrified, he sat bolt upright and listened carefully.

_Thump, thump, drag. Thump, thump, drag. _

Thinking that maybe his imagination was getting the better of him, Arthur attempted to lay back down and go back to sleep.

_Thump, thump, drag. Thump, thump, drag. _

After hearing the noise for a second time, Arthur sat up once more. Was it just him, or did the noise sound closer?

_Thump, thump, drag. Thump, thump, drag. _

Terrified, he leapt out of his bed and darted over to his brother's.

"Peter!" he whispered. "Peter, wake up!"

The younger brother awoke with a groggy grumble. "Wut?"

_Thump, thump, drag. Thump, thump, drag. _

Peter's eyes flew wide, and he clung to his brother like a lifeline.

"What is that?" he whispered frantically.

_Thump, thump, drag. Thump, thump, drag. _

Terrified, the two boys shoved both of their beds up against the door, thus barricading themselves in their room, before huddling together in a corner of the room.

_Thump, thump, drag. Thump, thump._

The thumping stopped eventually, but the two boys still refused to come out of their room.

A few hours later, Arthur and Peter's parents and brothers returned home, tired but utterly satisfied with the play. They weren't surprised to see the lights in the den on with the television still going, assuming that Angus was still up watching whatever show he was into lately.

However, as they entered the house, they found that this was not the case.

A pool of blood coated the floor of the living room, a trail of it leading into the hall and up the stairs.

Terrified, Arthur and Peter's mother dropped her handbag. "Arthur! Peter! Angus!"

Upstairs, upon hearing their mother calling, Arthur and Peter leapt up from where they'd been huddling together and pulled their beds away from the door, throwing it open and darting out into the hall.

They skidded to a halt and screamed bloody murder when they reached the top of the stairs.

Lying there in a puddle of his own blood was Angus, his face contorted into an expression of fear and desperation. His arms had been hacked off at the elbows and his legs were gone from the knee down, a bit of the flesh around the stumps of his arms battered and littered with bits of fuzz from the carpet. His mouth hung open, revealing a missing tongue.

He had used the stumps of his arms to drag himself up the stairs in an attempt to warn his brothers of impending danger.

Talk about dedicated.

* * *

_So, yes. I . . . really have nothing to say down here. _

_Again, if you have a particular horror story you want me to attempt (see; completely ruin), drop it in a review and I'll see what I can do. (PS - that rhymed! 8D) If not, review anyway! _

_(Every time you don't review, Switzerland kills a kitten. Save the kittens!)_


	3. God Took Him

_This story isn't all that scary (but, how many of them are, really?), but it seems a bit creepy to me in that whole children's-innocence kind of way. _

_In this one, we have England (duh), Australia (Dan), and New Zealand (Kiri). There really isn't any basis for the fact that New Zealand is older than Australia in this other than the fact that it worked with the story. I'm not even sure where I came up with that ridiculous concept. _

* * *

God Took Him

Arthur Kirkland couldn't have loved his two children, Kiri and Dan, more. They were both perfectly adorable, never raised a fuss, and never fought. Kiri was always more than happy to play big sister for her little brother, and Dan looked up to his sister like she had hung the moon. The bond that the two shared appeared to be unbreakable, something Arthur himself never had with his own brothers.

Now, Kiri had a pet cat named Hipi. It was white and fluffy, a bit like a sheep – hence the name, which is Maori for 'sheep'. Arthur had never had the money to have the cat spayed, thus leaving the cat up for impregnation against his will. Kiri had been ten types of excited when they discovered that Hipi was pregnant for the first time, but Arthur had not. He couldn't afford to have an entire litter of cats running around his house to reproduce and cause more problems for him.

So, when the kittens disappeared a few days after being born, Kiri had looked sadly up at her father and asked, "Where are the kittens, Daddy?"

He merely smiled sadly, brushing her golden curls out of her eyes. "God took them, love."

The second time Hipi had kittens, Arthur gave Kiri a list of errands to run, but she decided to play with the kittens once more before she went. They were all simply too cute for her to ignore! However, when she heard her father coming in, she hid from him, knowing that he would be angry when he found out that she hadn't gone out to do her errands right away.

Kiri hid and watched as Arthur placed a bucket of water on the floor beside Hipi and the kittens, gathered up the young cats into a sack, and drowned them in the bucket.

The next day, Kiri asked her father again what had happened to the kittens.

Arthur smiled once more. "God took them, love."

A few days later, Arthur was bathing Dan with Kiri's help when the telephone rang. Sighing, he grabbed a towel to wipe his hands. "Kiri," he instructed. "Watch your brother while I go answer that."

Kiri nodded, and Arthur went down to answer the phone call.

After arguing for a few moments with his French boss about his recent absence from work, Arthur hung up and returned to the bathroom.

He paled and stared at what greeted him.

"My God, Kiri!" he screamed, his voice flooded with panic. "What happened? What did you do to your brother?"

Kiri merely looked up at her father calmly.

"God took him."

* * *

_ I feel kinda bad that all of these are so short _ _I promise I'll try to make them longer in the future . . ._

_So, yeah! Please, please, please review and tell me what you think! If you have any requests, drop it in a review and I'll see if I can work it in! If not, review anyway! _

_. . ._

_I'll give you a cookie!_


	4. Roommates

_This one's probably one of the worst because I didn't really have time to go over it thoroughly, but whatever. The characters in this one are Fem!Ireland (I usually call him Seamus, but I changed him to Siobhan for this), Fem!Northern Ireland (Again, I usually call him Colin, but he's . . . she's(?) Colleen in here), and Wales (Gavyn). _

_As a side note, I do not claim to be a professional at writing an Irish accent, but I did decide to attempt it in this for effect. It's kind of like that Scottish accent I attempted . . .  
Anyway, if you happen to know a bit more about Irish accents than me, please tell me if I did something wrong. The only contact with Irish people I have is the stories my friend told me about these three guys she met at the college. (Apparently they played Angry Birds with her for, like, four hours and she nerdgasmed every time they said 'Caboodle'. She also said that she'd introduce me and never did . . . *sobs*)_

_If it's not obvious by now, I happen to quite like the British Isles . . ._

* * *

Roommates

"Feck it, Ah'm hungry."

Siobhan O'Leary rolled her eyes at her younger twin's antics, not looking up from the essay she'd been attempting to complete at a reasonable hour. "Ye're always hungry, Colleen."

The younger woman folded her arms over her chest, pouting from where she lay sprawled on her back on the bed across from Siobhan. "It's no' mah faul' ye never keep any food up here."

"'Cause ye'd never eat it in time and it'd go bad," Siobhan replied.

Colleen huffed, glaring at her sister. "Well, loan me some money so Ah can go ge' some food."

Siobhan groaned, slamming her pencil down on the binder she was writing on. "If Ah do it, will ye leave me be?"

"O' course," Colleen replied, rolling her eyes. Siobhan scowled and gestured vaguely to where her wallet rested on her beside table, not watching as her sister snatched up the bundle of pale green cloth and plastic decorated with shamrocks and leprechauns. Taking a few notes from the wallet, Colleen threw the green bundle back down and clambered off of the bed, turning to the door.

"Try no' to get lost on yer way back," Siobhan called absently, sparing a glance up to see her sister's reaction.

"Oh, shu' up," Colleen snapped, yanking the door open and vanishing into the hallway of the dorm building in her tank top and shorts. Siobhan snorted – the younger twin shared that same lack of caring with their older brother, Angus. Both of them could go out in naught but their birthday suits and not give a rat's ass about who saw.

The elder twin waited for a good two hours for her sister to come back, having finished her essay within the first hour and resigned herself to watching television for the second. Though she was worried about Colleen's delay in return, Siobhan simply assumed that the younger twin had gotten distracted by a pretty fellow she'd stumbled into. So, she decided to just go to bed, knowing that Colleen would wake her if and when she returned.

Siobhan hadn't had time to close her eyes before she heard a strange gurgling noise outside the room, accompanied by weak scratching. Startled, the Irish student sat bolt upright in the bed, staring in the direction of the door. The gurgling continued, but the scratching grew louder and more frantic.

Panicked, Siobhan slipped out of bed and bolted for the closet, fearing that someone was trying to break into her room. Colleen didn't even cross her mind as the scratching continued to grow in volume, the gurgling lingering on as an undertone. Siobhan wanted to call for help, but realized all too late that she had forgotten her cell phone on her nightstand.

Instead, she resigned herself to a night of restless sleep in the closet.

The next morning, after awakening from the one hour of rest she'd gotten with a start, Siobhan bit her lip and summoned enough courage to open the door. The dorm room hadn't changed at all, making it more than obvious that, if anyone had been trying to break in, they hadn't succeeded. Still, she was terrified to open the door. Trembling, the Irish student walked over to the window to see if there was someone outside who could check the hall for her.

To her relief, her older brother, Gavyn (who was also attending the college that the younger twins were studying at), was walking by with the large black dog he owned. Siobhan couldn't have been more grateful for her brother's daily routine at that point, nearly sobbing in relief as she threw the window open.

"Gavyn!" she called, causing the older man to jump in surprise.

Pale green eyes flickered up, widening in surprise at the sight of his younger sister hanging out of the window of her dorm room. "Siobhan?" he replied, sounding confused. "What's wrong?"

"There was somethin' makin' odd noises outside mah room last nigh'," the younger woman explained, a hint of fear in her voice. "Could ye do me a favor and come up to check it ou'?"

Gavyn sighed. "Aye, I'll be up in a moment. Shut the window. It's freezing out, and you're in short sleeves."

Siobhan offered a weak giggle, doing as her brother said and drawing her head back in.

It only took a few moments for Siobhan to hear Gavyn's footsteps outside in the hall, not accompanied by the click of his dog's feet – pets weren't allowed in the building, forcing Gavyn to leave his pet outside tied to a post. Siobhan listened as her brother walked down the hall, scowling when the steady clacking stopped suddenly.

"Is everythin' okay?" she called, fearing the worst.

There was a pause. "Y-yeah, it's fine. Just . . . stay in your room. I'm calling the police."

"What are ye talkin' abou'?" Siobhan replied, laying one hand on the doorknob of the room.

"Nothing!" Gavyn answered, sounding frantic at the clink Siobhan's class ring made on the metal of the knob. "J-just, stay inside."

But Siobhan had already begun turning the doorknob. As she pulled the door open, the first thing she noticed was Gavyn standing with his back pressed to the wall across from the room, face an ashy gray and eyes locked on something at Siobhan's feet. Frightened, the Irish student looked down.

A piercing scream ripped its way from her throat.

Colleen was lying on the floor in front of the door in a puddle of half-dried blood, a horrified look on her face and a deep hole piercing her throat just above her collarbone. It was obvious that the wound was one that had bled out slowly, if it wasn't the lack of air that had killed the younger twin first. Her hands were twisted into shapes Siobhan had never seen before, nails torn from fingers that were worn down to the bone from scratching for help.

* * *

_So, here we go with this spiel again. _

_If I made any mistakes anywhere, please tell me, and if you have any suggestions for stories (my sources are limited), review and tell me about them, please! Even if you don't have a suggestion, review anyway! Reviews motivate me to write longer stories! (I still feel like these are all freakishly short . . . are they?)_

_Oh, and I might be changing the day I update this to either Friday or Saturday due to constraints at school . . . stupid Physical Science and US history . . . oh, how I hate thee . . .  
So, yeah. There might be two updates this week if I actually get around to switching it. Just saying._


	5. Don't Turn on the Lights

_Okay, so this one stars Fem!Denmark (Mikelena) and Fem!Norway (Halldora). _

_I really don't feel like putting much in here . . . _

_Other than the fact that I will probably be doing a story about Greece next week because WE'RE HAVING A GREEK FEAST ON FRIDAY IN MY WORLD RELIGIONS CLASS!  
IT'S GONNA BE GREAT! WE'RE HAVING LAMB AND BAKLAVA AND ALL THAT GOOD STUFF! I'M SO EXCITED!_

_. . . yeah, like you guys care about my personal life . . . _

* * *

Don't Turn On The Lights

Mikelena Køhler and Halldora Haugan were roommates. Mikelena was the preppy Danish girl who loved nothing more than flirting with that Dutch guy in her Literature class and anticipating the next party. Halldora was the studious Norwegian girl who always did her homework on time and never socialized outside of class. The two of them were polar opposites, but they still managed to stay friends to the end.

One day, Mikelena had been paying little to no attention to her med science professor as he gave the review for the midterm the next day when she felt a tap on her back. Turning, she came face-to-face with her second-best-friend in the world, Maria Beilschmidt.

"Hey, Mikki," Maria whispered. "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" Mikelena replied curiously.

"Lars, Mattie, and Alfred are having a party tonight in Matt's room," Maria answered excitedly. "All girls in the building are invited. You coming?"

Mikelena grinned. "Hells yes! Party plus booze plus Lars equals me there!"

Thus, Mikelena Køhler lapsed into a lengthy conversation with Maria and Maria's lab partner, Berta Oxenstierna, about who would be at the party and who they would try to hook up with, all three of them losing interest in the review.

Thankfully, Halldora was also in Mikelena's med science class, and paid close attention to the review while taking careful notes. She had no interest in going to the party, and planned on spending the night studying before going to bed early. When she and Mikelena got back to their room after class, Halldora immediately set about tugging her books and notes out while Mikelena prepared herself for the party.

"Dude, are you seriously not going?" Mikelena asked, glancing up from where she'd been carefully applying mascara to stare incredulously at her roommate.

"I'm seriously not going," Halldora answered, her voice monotone as she scribbled something down on a piece of paper tucked into her book.

"Why not?" Mikelena asked, returning her attention to her mirror and adjusting the eyeliner that she's meticulously drawn on. "I though you were crushing on that one guy from Canterbury."

"His name is Arthur," Halldora snapped. "And I'm not going to a party just for him. I'm surprised _you're_ going. We do have a midterm tomorrow."

Mikelena snorted. "Whatever. What's college if you can't party?"

"A way to get a better job."

"Uh huh," Mikelena replied, rolling her eyes and snapping her little mirror closed before dropping it into her purse, grabbing the red bag up. "You sure you don't wanna come?"

"I don't drink before tests," Halldora answered distantly.

"Fine. Your loss."

With that, Mikelena swept out of the room, leaving Halldora alone.

At approximately two in the morning, Mikelena returned to her room to gather up a few things in preparation for staying the night with Lars van Rijn, if you get my meaning. Upon seeing that the room was completely darkened, Mikelena decided to do her friend a justice and leave the lights off while she gathered her things. After much stumbling and muttered curses, the Danish student collected her things and left, leaving Halldora in peace.

The next morning, Mikelena returned to her room with a slight hangover and a gut filled with worry about the upcoming midterm. She hadn't studied at all, and hoped that Halldora could give her the Cliff's Notes while they walked to class.

Entering the room, Mikelena flipped the lights on, yawning before looking over at her roommate's bed.

A piercing scream tore through the air of the dormitory building.

Halldora Haugan was lying on her back on the bed, her throat torn open with too many slash marks to count, her sheets stained through with half-dried blood. Her nightclothes were torn and soiled, more blood covering her pale legs and stomach. Her hair was torn out in places, numerous bruises dotting her once soft skin. Dull blue eyes were wide with horror, the Norwegian's face twisted in a silent scream frozen in death. Bloody footprints led to the window nearby, a few handprints on the sill and glass.

Above Halldora's head, on the whitewashed walls of the immaculately cleaned dorm room, was a single message scrawled in Norwegian blood.

"_Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?"_

* * *

_So, yeah. Please review and suggest things. Particularly ones about cats. I need them for Greece._

_I am so not feeling it today. No . . .  
I didn't even read this bitch, so tell me if I completely screwed something up. _

_Maybe if you guys review, I'll be happier . . . *begs*_


	6. Family Portraits

_Oh. My. God. I am so, so, so, so, so, SOOOOO sorry about the ridiculous delay in updating this. I'm not dead, you guys. I swear.  
I feel really bad about sort of abandoning this, but I'm pretty sure I did warn you guys that I might fall behind on updating this or whatever. If I didn't, oh well. Now you know. I have some serious committment issues. =/_

_Anyway, I know I promised a Greece story, but the whole Greek party thing was kinda crap even though we watched Hercules and stuff (The lamb was cooked wrong, I swear! It tasted like crap . . . and we didn't have baklava . . . T.T), and I sortofhaven'.  
BUT I herd u liek Iceland, and I just happend to have this one floating around, so I decided to put it up! I did write it ages ago, so there MAY be some issues with it. Like his name. Ari is Iceland, but I may or may not have once upon a time called him Jón, so if you see that, either ignore it or let me know and I'll fix it. (I'm bipolar naming characters that don't have a name. =/ ) Anyway, other than that, Erik is Norway, and this story creeped the SH!T out of me the first time I heard it. DX I still can't sleep with the blinds open._

_. . . If you read all that, congrats._

* * *

Family Portraits

In a time where food was scarce and hunting essential, a young hunter named Ari found himself wandering the woods alone after losing his way. The sun had set long before, and Ari was certain that his older brother, Erik, would be worrying about him. Still, he found himself wandering aimlessly through the woods by himself, tired and hungry.

Eventually, he came across a clearing with a small cabin sitting in the middle. Utterly exhausted, Ari staggered towards the cabin, hoping that he could stay there for the night.

The door to the cabin was ajar, more than inviting the exhausted hunter inside. To his surprise, the cabin was empty save the lonely bed by the wall and the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. Slightly bemused by the abandoned fire yet beckoned by the bed, Ari staggered into the cabin and let the door swing shut behind him. With a sigh, he flopped heavily down onto the bed, not bothering to drag all of his limbs onto the mattress as he stared up at the ceiling and decided to plead mercy from the owner of the cabin if and when they returned.

As he lay there, Ari noticed that there were portraits hanging on the walls. Each one was of a different person, painted in incredible detail and framed with simple, dark wood. No two paintings looked alike, and each one was even more grotesque and hideous than the last. The paintings were so lifelike, Ari noted, that they all seemed to be watching him with beady, condescending eyes.

Unnerved by the paintings, Ari curled up and turned away from the open room, facing the wall and giving in to sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, the young hunter slowly unwound himself and sat up, stretching with a wide yawn. He had slept quite well despite feeling like he'd been watched the entire night, and felt incredibly rested as he stood to examine the now-sunbathed cabin.

To his horror, however, the portraits were gone.

In their place were plain windows.

* * *

_. . . Short story is short. _

_So, I kinda forgot what my usual spiel is here, but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with asking you guys to check my grammar and spelling, offer up story ideas, and review even if you don't have one. Yeah. Do that, and I just might update more often.  
. . . though I don't know how well that'll work with school starting up again and me having not one but **TWO** AP classes_. _I will try though. _

_Oh, and how do you guys feel about OCs? Like . . . Mexico, for example?  
(PS - I just noticed that there may or may not be more author's notes than actual story . . . I fail.)_


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